


got my heartbeat racing

by emilyonstars



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Sleepovers, horror movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 16:23:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12236436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyonstars/pseuds/emilyonstars
Summary: "I'm pretty sure this is a fire hazard," says Eddie."Get your ass in the blanket fort, Eds."





	got my heartbeat racing

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Reddie fic. 
> 
> This is set around 1992. 
> 
> Also posted on tumblr via eddiespaghettio.tumblr.com 
> 
> The song Richie is singing is "Burning Down the House" by Talking Heads (1983).

“I’m pretty sure this is a fire hazard,” says Eddie, watching Richie warily, a superman print cased pillow clutched to his chest. 

They had gathered all the blankets and pillows from Richie’s room and the spares from the linen closet and strung them along the threadbare couch, mismatched chairs, and soda ring stained side tables in the Tozier family’s basement. 

“Get your ass in the blanket fort, Eds,” Richie replies, pinning the final quilt between the arm of the couch and his father’s favorite lazy chair and stretching it across the furniture to drape the other side over the table lamp. 

“Richie!” Eddie yelped, anxiety bubbling up in his throat. “You can’t put a blanket over the lamp. That’s how you burn your house down!” 

Richie turns to face him then, a languid, mischievous smile spreading over his face. Eddie knows he’s going to regret his words long before Richie even opens his mouth. 

“ _ All wet! You might need a raincoat! Shakedown! Dreams walking in broad daylight! _ ” Richie belts out, entirely off key, and breaks out into jerky, horrendous dance moves, sliding across the tattered area rug in his socks. “ _ Three hun-dred, six-ty five de-grees! Burning down the house! _ ” 

Eddie swallows back his laughter at the spectacle of Richie’s making. 

“If you catch on fire, I won’t even spit on you to put you out,” Eddie declares, trying to school his features into a serious expression but a smile teases at the edges of his mouth. He ducks his head and picks up the VHS of  _ Friday the 13th _ they had rented and shoves it into the mouth of the player. The machine whirs and clicks at the previews begin to roll across the television. 

“Speaking of putting out, your mom -” 

Eddie turns on Richie, superhero pillow still in hand. 

“Finish that sentence and I’m going to smother you,” he warns, raising the pillow threateningly toward Richie’s face, eyes narrowing. 

Richie wiggles his eyebrows. “Ooo, tell me more about your kinks, E -” 

He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before Eddie is stuffing the pillow into Richie’s face like he’s trying to force feed it to him. Richie howls with laughter. 

“Beep beep, Richie.” 

  
  


Richie sits much too close to Eddie in the rectangle space of the blanket fort, formed from where they shoved all the furniture together in a U-shape. So close that Eddie can hear the breaths that Richie takes over the sounds of Jason stalking the unassuming campers of Camp Crystal Lake; close enough that every time Richie reaches into the popcorn bucket he bumps Eddie with his elbow, the heat of his body burning Eddie through his pajamas. 

“Also a fire hazard,” Eddie whispers as they watch Counselor Jack light up a joint in bed. When the hand darts out and grabs Counselor Jack’s head from under the bunk bed, Eddie jumps, hands flying to hover in front of his eyes. 

From beside him, Richie chuckles lightly. “Are you scared?” 

Eddie shushes him, hoping that the darkness disguises the warmth in his cheeks. “Watch the movie, Richie.” 

“You’re so cute, Eds,” Richie coos, reaching over to pinch Eddie’s cheek, who promptly slaps his hand away. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” 

“Shut up,” Eddies says, tossing a handful of popcorn at Richie, who tries to catch it all in his mouth and misses miserably. 

Eddie sits through the remainder of the movie with a pillow tucked against his chest, just under his nose so he can duck his face into it when it gets too suspenseful or gruesome. 

As the movie comes to a close, the scene pans to Alice resting in the canoe upon Crystal Lake. When Jason surges out the water and drags her under, Eddie feels Richie flinch, bumping the length of his upper body into Eddie’s side.

Eddie looks over at him, a bit startled, before an impish grin slides across his face. 

“Now who’s scared, asshole?” Eddies teases, laughing at the flush that blooms across Richie’s face, evident even in the muted lights. 

“Jump Scares are cheap shots,” Richie protests. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie mocks playfully, throwing Richie’s words back in his face. “I’ll protect you.” 

Eddie expects Richie to snark him in return, but he doesn’t. Instead, Richie is just staring at him, face illuminated in blue flashes of light from the television screen; his eyes warm and large beneath the thick lenses of his glasses, mouth parted in a soft smile, almost like he’s in awe.

It takes Eddie a second to realize that Richie is leaning toward him slowly, a pair of warm hands reaching up to cup his face. Eddie’s heart pounds rapidly in his chest, and it has nothing to do with the horror flick they just watched. 

Richie stops mere inches from Eddie’s face, and up this close Eddie can see the questioning look in his eyes, and the insecurity embedded beneath it. Eddie gives an almost imperceptible nod and then Richie moves forward to close the gap between them. 

He knew it was coming and the kiss is impossibly soft, just a brush of Richie’s lips against his, but Eddie gasps at the sensation anyways. 

“Is this okay?” Richie murmurs, pulling back far enough to look Eddie in the eyes. Eddie can’t recall Richie ever being this quiet in his entire life. 

“Yes,” he whispers, tugging Richie’s mouth back to his by the collar of his shirt. 

Richie tastes like the butter from the popcorn and coca cola. 

They kiss inexpertly until their mouths burn from the friction and Eddie’s chest aches from the shortness of breath. 

  
  


They lie side by side beneath the blanket fort on the cushions from the couch, pressed together from shoulder to socked foot, the only light coming from the fuzzy blank screen of the television. Eddie stares up at the shadowy patterns of the quilt stretched out above them, a besotted smile on his face. Richie’s fingertips brush up against his and Eddie takes his hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. Eddie closes his eyes with a contented sigh. 

Just as he begins to doze off, he hears: 

“ _Chi, chi, chi, ha, ha, hah_ ,” from beside him and Eddie jolts awake. 

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” Eddie exclaims, and Richie erupts in laughter. 

“I fucking hate you,” Eddie says, but he squeezes Richie’s hand anyways. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think (:


End file.
